His Brown-Eyed Girl (A New Orleans Ladies Novel Book 2)

by Liz Talley

Addy frowned. “You dated Courtney? One of the kids said something like that, but I…” She didn’t finish her question and he understood why. It was a strange situation.

  “I grew up with Courtney. She’s a bit younger than I am, but she was in my grade because she started school in another state. We were best of friends. She was the pea to my carrot,” Lucas said, not wanting to talk about Courtney and the past. It seemed so long ago… almost like a dream at times. “You’re a lot like her, Michael. You hold things in and think you can handle everything life throws at you on your own.”

  “And you don’t?” Addy asked.

  He tried not to squirm, but it happened anyway. The day had been light, full of laughter and excitement. They’d gone to City Park and played wifle ball and then gone on to the Mardi Gras museum downtown… even though there had been one in Kenner. And that was after they’d stuffed themselves on Deanie’s seafood in Bucktown a stone’s throw from Lake Ponchartrain. He didn’t want to trip back into the hurt of the past. “Sure. I’m a dude. We hold onto stuff, and in my case, I have things I’ve held on to for longer than I should have.”

  “Like hating my dad?” Chris asked.

  “I don’t-” Lucas snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. “I don’t hate your father. He’s my brother and brothers always love each other. That’s something you two should think about.”

  “But Dad stole Mom from you. I hear things, and I know you left New Orleans because of them getting together.” Michael’s eyes glinted with something Lucas couldn’t define. Maybe he also knew Courtney getting pregnant with him also played a role.

  “Is that why you left law school?” Addy asked softly.

  “You know what? I don’t want to have this conversation right now,” he said, scooting back the old-fashioned iron parlor chair, dragging it across the floor, making them cringe at the sound. “Charlotte’s worn out, and I am, too.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at him, but they didn’t move.

  “Do you hate us, too?” Michael asked, his eyes now fearless, almost accusing. Obviously the kid wanted to hear the truth.

  Lucas paused. “Do you think I hate you?”

  The boy shook his head. “No, if you did you would have left us with that crackhead DeeAnn.”

  Lucas sucked in air, feeling like the world pressed in on him. “Right. I don’t hate anyone, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some things between your father and me. Things you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Michael says Dad is dead,” Chris said, his blue eyes welling with tears. “That’s not true, is it? We’re kind of scared.”

  Michael’s spoon clattered on the table, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Your father isn’t dead. And he’s not going to die.”

  “His leg got blown off,” Michael said, his voice quiet in the chattering cacophony of the busy restaurant. “I heard Mom tell Grammy and Grampy weeks ago. She was crying and said he was in Germany and then told them about the operations he would have.”

  Chris turned terror-stricken eyes on his brother. “His leg got blowed up?”

  “Wait a sec, guys,” Lucas said, holding up his hands and waving them before scooting his chair back toward the table. He glanced over at Addy who cradled her cappuccino in both hands, her deep eyes brimming with concern. “Let’s take a deep breath and I’ll explain some things to you, okay?”

  Both Chris and Michael swallowed, their eyes glued to him, as they nodded simultaneously.

  Lucas glanced over at Addy. “I’m about to piss Courtney off with this, so you vouch for me when she tries to shank me.”

  Addy bit her lower lip before saying, “I don’t know what Courtney’s intentions are, but I think easing your nephews’ fears trumps any promises made, and for what it’s worth, as a senior counselor in my victim’s therapy group, I can say honesty is a good policy when facing fear.”

  Lucas nodded and looked back at his nephews. “Your mother is a good woman, and when she was in high school her parents were killed.”

  “We already know that,” Michael said.

  “Yes, but I was there with her when it happened, and a lot of false hope and promises were given to her by doctors and nurses… and none of those promises came true. They told your mother that her mother would live and get better. She didn’t. Having hope yanked away really hurt your mother, so she truly thinks she’s doing the right thing by protecting both of you.”

  “Our dad… is he, uh, going to—” Chris’s voice thickened and his lower lip trembled. “I don’t want my daddy to die.”

  “He’s not,” Lucas said, stretching out a hand and patting Chris’s. “They thought your father was fine and moved him from Germany back to the US, but he grew sick when he got to Virginia. An infection developed from some wounds he received in his stomach, and he didn’t respond to the doctor’s treatments. For a while, it looked bad.”

  “But now it doesn’t?” Michael asked.

  Lucas shook his head. “He’s doing much better, and they found the right combination of medicines to fight the infection. He’s growing stronger every day and your mother thinks that after he’s fitted with a prosthetic, they will clear him to come home to finish his recovery.”

  “What’s a prosetic?”

  “Prosthetic,” Michael corrected, tapping on the glass tabletop. “It’s a fake leg. You’ve seen runners with them. Remember?”

  “That cool spring robot-looking leg?” Chris knitted his eyes together. “That’s what Dad will have?”

  “Or something like that,” Lucas said, glancing again at Addy. Her face had assumed an ethereal quality, reminding him of Reubenesque paintings gracing cathedrals. Her soft eyes smiled at him, and suddenly all inside him wasn’t about wanting Addy beneath him. A piece of him was satisfied at that moment to be near her, to be able to reach out, and draw warmth from her. “But I want you to take your frustration at your mother for not telling you and put it up on a shelf to be forgotten. She is what she is. This wasn’t about not trusting you… it was about loving you so much she didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Wow,” Addy breathed, turning a smile onto the two boys who looked oddly lighter than they had in the entire time he’d been with them.

  “So are we good?”

  Michael pushed his hair back and leveled his gaze at him. “Thank you for telling us, but you didn’t tell us about what happened between you and Dad a long time ago.”

  At that moment, Lucas knew he couldn’t put his brother or sister-in-law in a bad light… and explaining the cheating and betrayal would tarnish their images which felt like the wrong thing to do. “You know, your mother and father were meant to be together. Sometimes we think we know what we want, but God has a better plan for us. He had a better plan for your parents and put them together. And thank goodness He did. He made you a family.”

  Chris nodded his head. “So what you’re saying is that you’re glad Mom and Dad got together because now you can marry Addy.”

  Addy choked on her water.

  “That’s not exactly what I was saying, but it’s kind of right,” Lucas said, popping her on the back and trying not to laugh. “So are we good here?”

  Michael smiled. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  And at that very moment, Lucas felt things shift between him and Michael. It was subtle but present all the same. Maybe his words hadn’t merely brought Michael some relief but had strengthened the fragile bonds they’d started forming over the past two weeks. Maybe his nephew had started him toward forgiveness, something he’d been needing to move toward for too long.

  “Ready to go?” Addy asked, reaching out for Charlotte and scooping her into her arms. Lucas paused a moment and watched how gently Addy moved the girl, how right she looked with the little girl cradled against her body.

  He’d taken pictures throughout day and itched for the camera in the truck to preserve the sheer beauty of Addy and the child.

  “Yep, I’m ready to play Battlefield,” Chris said, banging
the chair against the table, waking Charlotte who started whimpering. Addy nuzzled her and smiled at Lucas, and in her face he saw exactly what he looked for… understanding.

  No need to rehash all that had occurred between him and Courtney because somehow or another, Addy got him.

  And it had felt that way since he’d first met her.

  Meant to be.

  And just as Michael had looked lighter, Lucas felt lighter. Something about sharing that burden had given more knockabout room inside himself. His heart beat strong against his ribs and his mind seemed to almost sigh with relief. Didn’t make sense but he felt it just the same.

  And as they walked to his truck, Charlotte asleep on Addy’s shoulder, the two boys for once not arguing, Lucas slid his hand into Addy’s and felt contentment make a home inside his soul.

  “You’re home,” Flora said when Addy unlocked the back door and entered the kitchen.

  “I am, but only for a minute. Thought I’d come see if you wanted to watch a movie with us. Sanitized version of Forrest Gump.” Addy opened the pantry and rifled through the snack basket for a package of microwave popcorn.

  “No, I’m working on piecing that pattern for the dress I’m making for the Natchez Pilgrimage. These old fingers ain’t what they used to be and neither are these eyes.” Flora wiggled her fingers and eyed Addy as she emerged from the depths of the pantry. “You sure look pretty, my darling. So glad to see you wearing some color.”

  “Thanks. You sure you don’t want to come? The kids are behaving and Lucas is baking brownies. Who knew the man could bake all along? We could have saved ourselves some work.”

  “You need a proper date with that man. Not one with kids around,” Flora said, putting her hands on her hips. Addy’s aunt wore a pair of pink Juicy Couture sweatpants and a tight long-sleeved t-shirt that said, “Cutie pie.” She looked like a teenager except with bifocals, age spots, and gray hair.

  “It’s going to be hard to do since he’s all they have,” Addy said.

  “Y’all have me,” her aunt said, cocking her head. “Unless you don’t trust me anymore?”

  Addy would never admit her doubts about Flora’s progressing disease to her aunt, but she wasn’t sure Flora could handle three unruly, precocious kids for an evening. “Of course I trust you, Auntie. I just don’t think it’s fair to ask-”

  “Why the heck not? Shit, I can handle a few kids,” Aunt Flora cracked, waving a hand.

  “Flora.”

  Her aunt smiled. “I’m getting too old to mince words.”

  “You look and sound like a rap video,” Addy joked, ransacking the candy jar for Reese’s cups.

  “How about tomorrow afternoon, I take the kids to the movies? Or maybe down to Audubon to the zoo?”

  “Alone?”

  “I’ll call Patti, and she can bring her grandson Tristan. She has season passes, and it’s not hard to handle kids at the zoo… they can’t touch any animals or break anything.”

  “I’ll ask Lucas,” Addy said, hoping she used good sense and hadn’t let her desire to have Lucas alone skew her judgment.

  Heck, her judgment had been skewed when she’d decided to not worry about forever, but to embrace the now. So un-Addy-like. Or at least unlike the Addy she’d become. But she wanted this weekend more than she wanted to be sensible.

  Walking back into the darkening shadows, Addy’s lizard brain kicked in.

  Nothing but shadows. No movement but the wind. No sounds but the swish of nearby traffic and the leaves brushing against their neighbors. The dark wasn’t scary… it was the evil in the bright light of day that scared the bejeezus out of Addy.

  She walked across the back porch of the Finlay house and Kermit brushed against her knees.

  “Agh!” she stepped back and nearly fell off the step. Lucas poked his head out, and she smelled the brownies baking.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t see the dog,” she said, looking down at a smiling Kermit. His tongue lolled out as he lifted a paw and scraped it down her leg. She gave him a pat. Pavlov. Humans were ruled by it just as much as their canine friends.

  Lucas stepped out and swept her into his arms. He didn’t kiss her, just settled her into his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Thank you for today, Addy.”

  “Mmm,” she said, wrapping her arms about him, leaning into him, enjoying the hard warmth of his body against the softness of hers. She inhaled his scent then trailed her fingers up and down the ridges of his back. She wanted to memorize him so when he was gone and she lay in her bed alone, she could recall the way he felt. “Today was surprisingly fun. Never thought I’d say that about a date with kids along for the ride.”

  “You’re good at Frisbee golf.”

  “My nephew Connor taught me,” she said allowing her hands to slide into the back of his waistband, massaging his lower back.

  “You fit me, Addy,” he said, dropping little kisses atop her head, brushing a hand through the tendrils falling from her braid. He bent and kissed the spot beneath her ear, that oh-so sensitive place on her neck.

  A small shudder was his reward.

  “Uncle Wucas! Chris woke me up,” Charlotte said from the open doorway.

  Addy peered over at the tot who rubbed her eyes and blinked sleepily at them. “We’re coming.”

  “Grr,” Lucas growled, nipping her ear. “I told you. This isn’t fair.”

  She swatted him, smiling as she stepped from his arms. “By the way, Aunt Flora wants to take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. Her friend has passes.”

  Lucas’s eyebrows raised and she’d never seen such a satisfied smile before. “Really?”

  “If you don’t have anything to do…,” she drawled, walking her fingers up his arm. “Tara wants you to mow her yard.”

  He made a face.

  She poked a finger at his chest. “Just kidding. I thought you might like to mow my yard.”

  His eyes narrowed even as his mouth quirked.

  “And by mow, I mean mow…” She blew into his ear.

  “…my…” She trailed a finger down his chest.

  “…yard.” She brushed her hand against his fly, feeling his arousal.

  She gave him that smile given by all femme fatales throughout history and sashayed, yes, sashayed to the back door.

  “I’ll sharpen my blade,” Lucas said.

  Addy laughed.

  Sunday dawned rainy and gray, and Lucas cursed the clouds when he took Kermit out for a short run. Michael was reading, Chris was clicking that stupid control and making machines fight each other, and Charlotte was glued to the Creampie kitten movie. He had about fifteen minutes to stretch his legs, gather his thoughts, and expend the frustration at the damn weather. The drizzle spat at him, and Kermit took extra long to do his business.

  Ben and Courtney’s neighborhood was nice, sitting not far off Carrolton among midsized, tasteful houses that clustered around the grand dames lining St. Charles which ran perpendicular with the busy street. Not too far away were the arches of Tulane and the graceful Ursuline Academy. He hooked a left onto St. Charles and then huffed it back up State Street and then across to Nashville.

  By the time he reached the gray blue house on Orchard, the misty rain had stopped and the sun peeked out.

  Hallelujah.

  By the time he’d dressed the kids, fed them lunch, given them money, and then warned them to behave or risk the loss of a limb… or at least phone privileges, he was a giant ball of horny need.

  Not good.

  Addy didn’t need him jumping her bones the minute he walked through her door.

  Flora showed up on the porch, a quarter till noon wearing jeans and a shirt that she’d likely stolen out of a teenager’s closet. The woman took dressing young to extremes, but her smile was friendly and her companion had a four-year-old boy with her.

  Lucas bent down and eyeballed Charlotte. “Be nice to Tristan. Remember what happened with Sheldon?”

  She nodded. �
�He hitted me.”

  “Yes, so use good manners just like your teacher taught you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He rose and gave Michael and Chris the look his father had often given to him and Ben. “Keep your hands off each other and be nice to your sister.”

  Chris saluted. “Aye, aye, Uncle.”

  And off they went, leaving Lucas to shower, shave and run out for a bottle of wine. He grabbed a small clutch of flowers as he checked out at the grocery and then booked it back to Orchard Street. He wanted every second of every minute with Addy to count.

  When he pulled into the driveway, he groaned.

  A car sat in the drive.

  A car with a nun in it.

  Sister Regina Maria wasn’t bigger than a popcorn fart, but she covered every inch of ground she trod.

  And she trod toward him.

  Glowering.

  “Mr. Finlay?”

  “You drive a car?” As opposed to flying on a broomstick?

  She glanced back at the silver Toyota Highlander before piercing him with flinty eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  He didn’t have an answer. “What can I help you with, Sister?”

  “First, I think it would be appropriate for you to ask me to step inside. I’m a human being, not an animal who would conduct business in a driveway.”

  Something sank inside him as he shifted the grocery bag and gestured to the house before casting a desperate glance at Addy’s house.

  So much for every second of every minute.

  “Come inside, Sister.” He pulled out the key and unlocked the door, praying the living room was halfway cleared of toys, clothing, and the load of towels he’d not gotten around to folding.

  Nope. Same ol’ messy living room. The clothes-folding fairies had not descended upon his laundry basket.

  Sister Regina Maria’s eyes widened, but she was polite enough to keep her mouth pressed into a disapproving line. She refused to sit… of course, he didn’t blame her. Chris had left his socks on the cushion. He set the bag on the coffee table and turned to her. “So what brings you here on a most Holy day?”

  “The Lord’s work, of course.”